Tiananmen at Taksim

Well, not quite in terms of blood, but it's the principle that counts:

Turkey has ‘no more tolerance’ for violent protest, Prime Minister Erdogan told the parliament. He was speaking as police used water cannons and tear gas to take over Taksim Square in Istanbul from anti-government activists.
Erdogan lashed out at the protesters as he was addressing MPs on Tuesday. In his speech he separated the peaceful protesters concerned with the development plans at Gezi Park from those in Taksim Square, who he said are responsible for violent clashes with police forces.
The prime minister blamed the Taksim protesters of injuring security troops, damaging public property, disturbing public order and damaging Turkey’s image among international investors.
Erdogan’s speech came hours after hundreds of police walked into Taksim Square just after dawn and used tear gas and water cannons to fend of protesters attempting to enter it. Police removed protest banners from buildings overlooking the square. The prime minister hailed the move, which he described as tearing down “rags”.
Clashes erupted in the streets surrounding Taksim Square, while the police took over part of the square by marching in large formation and then driving out the remaining protesters by rounds of tear gas.
Some people threw Molotov cocktails, and one of the riot police cars was set on fire. Those protesting in Gezi Park have distanced themselves from the attackers in Twitter posts, some calling them “agents provocateurs,” who play along the official depiction of the protesters as marauders and extremists.

The use of Molotov cocktails here must be balanced against the violence that had (allegedly) already been perpetrated by the Turkish police. And claims that the protesters have been violent would seem to be open to question given that so many of those arrested by Turkish police have been the violent thugs known as lawyers.

The stakes might be getting higher and higher, as Ed Morrissey pithily describes the basic disagreement:

“Tayyip side of the Moon,” reads one piece of graffiti in this AP video taken in Istanbul earlier today.  Another piece of graffiti on a bus window reads “Devil Tayyip,” also taken by the AP.  Both show a certain measure of contempt for Turkey’s prime minister Tayyip Erdogan, and the feeling may be mutual.  Erdogan ordered police to assault the barricades in Taksim Square and end the two-week-long standoff between the Islamist government and the Kemalist protesters[.]

"Kemalist" is a reference to Mustafa Kemal, called "Ataturk" or the "Father of Turkey," who was responsible for the formation of Turkey's secular state over the rubble of the Ottoman Empire after World War I.

And, indeed, this is the basic battle: secularism and pluralism versus barbaric Islamism.

And, right now, barbaric Islamism is winning.

Rising Sun, Falling Skies now available for pre-order on Amazon.

Happy I am pleased to announce that Rising Sun, Falling Skies: The Disastrous Java Sea Campaign of World War II is now available for pre-order from Amazon. It will be published in March 2014.

Rising Sun, Falling Skies covers the heroic efforts of US naval forces trapped and isolated in the Far East after Pearl Harbor, who joined with British, Dutch and Australians in a desperate effort to halt the overwhelming Japanese onslaught. The campaign started badly with the Japanese destroying the US Far East Air Force on the ground in the Philippines and sinking the British battleship Prince of Wales and battlecruiser Repulse and ended even worse with the disastrous Allied defeat in the Battle of the Java Sea that led to the Japanese conquest of the oil-rich Netherlands East Indies, what is today Indonesia, and the achievement of the Japanese objectives in going to war.

In the middle, American, British, Dutch and Australian fighting men were done in by factors almost too numerous to list: ambivalent leaders, incompetent generals, indefensible positions, old, worn-out ships; almost no air support, badly outnumbered fighting men, outclassed and outnumbered aircraft, no hope for reinforcement, no hope even for replacements, no chance to rest, no chance to maintain their equipment, constantly low on supplies, especially oil and munitions; poor communications and bickering governments. In the face of these crushing odds, the only hope the Allied forces had was to delay the Japanese, buy time for the new warships and aircraft under construction in US shipyards and factories to enter the war. Every day counted. This was a modern-day Thermopylae, with a stand every bit as heroic, every bit as desperate, every bit as memorable as Leonidas and his 300 Spartans.

Rising Sun, Falling Skies takes a more American perspective on the naval campaign, including the efforts of the cruisers Houston and Marblehead, our submarines and ancient-but-game "four piper" destroyers, both crippled by criminally defective torpedoes; the desperation that doomed the USS Langley and the hunted Patrol Wing 10, who performed reconnaissance work that was borderline suicide. But our faithful and equally heroic allies will receive their due as well: the last stands of the British cruiser Exeter and the Australian cruiser Perth, the little-known British temporary repulse of a Japanese invasion force an hour before Pearl Harbor, and the mountains of unfair abuse heaped on the gallant, humane Dutch commander Karel Doorman, who went down with his ship in the Battle of the Java Sea.

The Japanese, too, will come in for examination. Their navy was a bizarre contradiction of very modern, very powerful ships with capable officers that achieved victory using a doctrine rejected by their own superiors and tactics that did not work. They would succeed in a conquest so vast, so complete that it would rival the German blitzkrieg, but would also sow the seeds for their own defeat in the war.

Rising Sun, Falling Skies has literally been 30 years in the making. Readers of my blog know that I study military history with an almost unmatched zeal. For me, it all started with World War II in the Pacific, with the Java Sea Campaign, its drama, and its mysteries holding a special place in my heart. The book is packed with as much information I can cram into it and fresh interpretations on a campaign that has not gotten a lot of attention, and the efforts made and miseries suffered by our servicemembers that have never been fully appreciated. This is a dream come true. Whether readers agree or disagree with my take on the campaign, I hope everyone will enjoy reading it.

Is Erdoğan’s Turkey cooked?

Somewhat lost here amid the furor of the Obama Scandalpalooza (Benghazi, IRS, DOJ, HHS, etc.) has been the news of massive protests in Turkey against the country's Islamist/neo-Ottoman Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan. Barry Rubin gives the background:

More than 1000 people have been injured in several days of protests in Istanbul and 11 other cities against Turkey’s Islamist regime.  The number of dead is not clear. There have been more than 90 demonstrations, making these the biggest anti-Islamist protests in a decade. Hundreds more were hurt in conflicts with police in Ankara, the capital. The demonstrations began as an environmental protest about the destruction of a famous Istanbul park but had spread to Ankara, too.
The movement began in Taksim Square, Istanbul’s most famous. The police responded toughly using tear gas and pepper spray. Some compared this to the Arab Spring demonstrations elsewhere in the Middle East, though this idea seems exaggerated.

Gradually the Justice and Development Party of Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan has been working to transform Turkey into something much closer to an Islamist state. Hundreds of political prisoners have been jailed on trumped-up charges of planned coups; the army has been forced to submit; a new constitution is being developed; and the independent judiciary is under assault by the government.
Much of the mass media has been bought up or intimidated. One must also take into account educational system changes, the declining status of women, and rising efforts to reduce the sale of alcohol. Turkey has more journalists in jail than any other country in the world.

So does Tulin Daloglu:

A few facts: When people brought the AKP government to power in November 2002, they cast their votes in protest of the mainstream political parties that had brought Turkey into severe economic crisis; people wanted to give something new a chance. In the following two elections, the Erdogan government probably continued to win due to its economic success, and because the opposition parties continued to fail to convince the people that they could do a better job once in power. Invoking Ottomanism is all about Erdogan’s personal vision, but there is no data — except for the prime minister’s word — that people voted for the AKP to reawaken the Ottoman era.
Erdogan may be mentally at war with the CHP’s mindset, and may feel more connected to the Ottoman past. He is, however, the prime minister of a republic, not an empire. But if he insists on returning back in time to the 1780s, there are those who can remind us that Sultan Selim uprooted an Armenian cemetery there to build the barracks. Going back in time and pushing an Ottoman agenda even in city planning is really pushing a certain segment of the society to the edge. But these few trees at Taksim Square seem to be only an excuse to unload an amassed anger about many things, such as the demolishing of a historic movie theater, Emek; the construction of a new bridge that connects the Anatolian and European sides of Istanbul, cutting more trees there; introducing new rules to the restaurants at Beyoglu and  Istiklal Caddesi, the heart of entertainment in Istanbul; and the limitations brought to alcohol consumption. The list may continue to grow.
The point is, protesters in Istanbul are expressing frustration that Erdogan has turned the city into his own playground, forcing his vision for the city on everyone. This is annoying those who feel he is altering places sacred to them and has not even bothered to include their perspective in making all the changes.
As Erdogan continues to describe the protesters as people engaging in “illegal activities” and “street bandits,” he may be missing an opportunity to connect with those who think his policies are ignoring them and that he is treating them as if they don’t count. Not everyone has to praise the Ottomans or believe that rebuilding demolished Ottoman buildings should be prioritized. It’s one thing for one to know his or her past, but something else to try to relive that past and reawaken it every day. Many want to live the present and prioritize the values of the republic. Erdogan’s remembrance of history is about praising the Ottoman era, covering over its mistakes, and about putting down the republican era, highlighting all its problematic chapters. This imbalance weighs heavily on people, and they are literally showing on the streets that they can’t take it any longer.
People expect Erdogan to be more inclusive and accept the fact that they have a say as to how their city will be shaped, and not just when they cast their ballots. “I have never favored a majority rule, but I won’t ever allow the minority to force [its decisions] on the majority,” Erdogan said. That may sound fine, but how do you find common ground by altering what are sacred corners of the city for a certain segment of the population, all the while making decisions on the new look without their input?
In that framework, these weeklong protests are a reflection that Erdogan has gone too far on some sensitive issues. Istanbul is a uniquely beautiful city divided between the European and Anatolian sides. It is big, its traffic is too crowded and it’s impossible for anyone to know every part of Istanbul, but everyone crosses through and knows Taksim. It’s the heart and the pulse of the city. While the protesting crowds are trying to make a statement that they don’t want their square, their crossing point, to be changed — at least not without their consent —  Erdogan said Sunday that a mosque will be built there.

And the always-readable Claire Berlinski, who lives in Istanbul/Stamboul/Constantinople/Byzantium/Byzantion, gives the foreground:

The story began when the government in Ankara decided that Gezi Park, in the center of Istanbul, should be demolished and replaced by a shopping mall. Now, Gezi Park is hardly the Jardins de Luxembourg. It’s a shabby rat trap that you wouldn’t walk through alone at night, and you’re more apt to find used condoms on its lawns than daisies and cowslips. But it is, all the same, one of the last remaining spaces with trees in the neighborhood.
Over the past decade, Istanbul has seen a massive construction boom. Lovely old buildings have been razed by the hundreds and replaced by shopping malls. Until this week, I would have said that while this transformation was not to my taste, it was very much to the liking of the people who live here: after all, they were certainly doing a lot of shopping. Apparently, I was wrong.
When the company building the shopping mall began cutting down trees, protesters occupied the park—peacefully. But in truth, these protests weren’t about the park or even about the shopping malls. They were about a people exhausted by Istanbul’s uncontrolled growth; by its relentless traffic; by the incessant noise (especially that of construction); by massive immigration from the countryside; by predatory construction companies—widely and for good reason believed to be in bed with the government—which have, over the past decade, destroyed a great deal of the city’s loveliness and cultural heritage. But most of all, they are about a nation’s fury with Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s growing authoritarianism, symbolized by Istanbul’s omnipresent police, the phalanxes of so-called Robocops. They are so notoriously trigger-happy that journalists on Twitter post a daily tear-gas report.

"Robocops?"  Cute.

Of late, almost every sector of the electorate has felt unease about one part or another of Erdoğan’s agenda. Restrictive new alcohol legislation, rammed through parliament, as usual, with contempt for the minority opposition, has prompted outrage; the so-called peace process with the PKK, which no one understands, has caused great unease. Anxiety is growing as well, not only about press censorship, but also about the prosecution of those who insult government officials or “Islamic values” on social media. There is outrage about the bombing in Reyhanlı that left 52 Turks dead and which appears to have been attributable to a series of inexcusable police and intelligence blunders (but no one knows, and no one believes what the press writes); there is fear of war with Syria; there is concern about strange reports that al-Nusra, a Syrian militant group affiliated with al-Qaida, has been cooking up Sarin gas in Adana, five miles east of the United States’ Incirlik Air Base; and there is deep skepticism about Erdoğan’s plans for grandiose construction projects—such as a third airport, a second Bosphorus canal, and a gigantesque mega-mosque intended to exceed in size every mosque left behind by his Ottoman predecessors. The thing will dominate Istanbul’s already-martyred skyline, and replace yet another pleasant and leafy park.
The recent announcement that a new bridge over the Bosphorus was to be named after Sultan Selim the Grim, slayer of the Alevis—a substantial and beleaguered Turkish religious minority—didn’t help matters. Nor did it soothe fears when a minor AKP official from the sticks wrote on Twitter that “My blood boils when spineless psychopaths pretending to be atheists swear at my religion. These people, who have been raped, should be annihilated.” Two weeks ago in Ankara, a disembodied voice on the subway, having apparently espied them by means of a security camera, denounced a couple for kissing. The voice demanded that they “act in accordance with moral rules.” In return, incensed Ankara lovers staged kissing protests: as the couples shyly smooched outside the subway station, a group of young men confronted them, chanting “Allahu Akbar!” It was reported but not confirmed that one of the kissers was stabbed; but given the mood of hysteria here right now, it would be unwise to believe every rumor one hears.
Erdoğan, it seems, severely underestimated the degree of his subjects’ displeasure, confident that God, a strong economy, and a weak opposition were all he needed to ensure his hegemony. He brusquely dismissed the tree protesters’ concerns: “We’ve made our decision, and we will do as we have decided.” An AKP parliamentarian then unwisely announced that some young people “are in need of gas.”
So the Robocops once again used pepper spray and water cannon against the protesters. A photographer captured them spraying tear gas directly into the face of a vulnerable, middle-aged woman in a pretty red dress. The photo went viral and enraged the public: she was clearly no hooligan. As one conservative journalist noted, she looked “decent.”
Rather than dispersing for good, the protesters returned—and more gathered to support them. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The police panicked. At dawn, they attacked with pronounced violence, injuring not only students, but also journalists and opposition members of parliament who had come to show their support. They also seriously wounded the photographer who took the “red dress” photo, which was probably not a coincidence. Nor was it likely a coincidence that they fired a tear-gas canister “at close range” at the head of journalist Ahmet Şık, best known for writing about the infiltration and corruption of Turkey’s police forces by the followers of the Turkish imam Fethullah Gülen. For this, Şık was jailed as a “coup-plotter.” This time, he wound up in the hospital, though he is expected to recover.
Riot police blocked the roads leading to Taksim, the city’s central square, as well as those leading to Istanbul’s famous Istiklal Avenue. They fired gas bombs at everything that moved, including the city’s bewildered stray dogs. Helicopters circled the skies. Wi-Fi in the city center was jammed. The hospitals quickly filled with the injured. So far, reports of deaths have been hard to confirm, with some exceptions. Human-rights activist Ethem Sarısülük is now brain dead, having “come under fire” from police—what kind of fire, we don’t know. Mehmet Ayvalitas, reportedly a member of a banned group of left-wing hackers, is also dead. Human Rights Watch believes the casualty numbers are much higher than those claimed by the government. Reports of two other deaths, in particular, sound credible, but it’s impossible to be sure. I saw a video of a police vehicle crushing a woman under its wheels; I would be surprised if she survived.
I obtained casualty reports from the hospitals in my neighborhood, which is close to Taksim Square. From one: “A 22-year-old male has lost his left eye due to a plastic bullet. A 19-year-old male is being watched closely with a subdural hematoma diagnosis resulting from the impact of a gas capsule. A 22-year-old male patient has taken a frontal hit in the head and suffered a fractured skull and is under close watch due to acute hematoma diagnosis.” From another: “Over 100 injured patients were treated. Of these, nine suffer from significant trauma, five were admitted for surgery. Of these, one suffered trauma in the testicle, one subdural hematoma (brain), and two trauma of the left eye. One was operated on and has lost all eyesight. The other eye patient is being watched with the diagnosis of eye perforation. Of those planned to be operated on, two suffer from maxillofacial trauma, one with a broken left arm and another with multiple fracture of the collarbone.” From yet another: “Received hundreds of applications during the first two days due to central location. Majority were respiratory cases, eye irritation due to exposure to gas. Of the three patients with head injury, a 34-year-old female received emergency surgery due to brain hemorrhage and compression fracture. The same patient was also operated on the next day due to subdural hematoma. She is under surveillance in life threatening condition.”

It seems the Turkish police are making an effort to blind the protesters. Literally:

It is confirmed that rubber bullets have knocked out the eyes of at least six people. Gas has covered the city like a volcanic cloud. Everyone, even those who stayed indoors, has been weeping and coughing. Adding insult to injury—and injury to injury—the cops fired gas into the accident and emergency ward of two hospitals close to Taksim Square. The police now seem to have moved from pepper spray to a more noxious lachrymatory agent—probably CS gas—causing panic among the public, which believes itself to be under attack by some terrifying species of chemical weapon.
Almost as chillingly, the muzzled and gutless Turkish media downplayed the events. The main source of news here was Twitter. Precisely as BBC World was showing shocking scenes of the protests, Turkey’s TV24 was featuring a lecture from Erdoğan about the dangers of smoking. While Taksim burned, NTV aired a cooking show, and another channel featured an incisive documentary about liposuction.
But as news of the injuries and deaths spread by word of mouth, and particularly as photos and videos of the clashes and the wounded began circulating on social media, the entire city rose up in fury. The three largest Turkish football teams, usually mortal rivals (in some cases literally), announced that they would unite to join the protests. Istanbullus poured out on the streets, some in their pajamas, banging pots and pans, whistling, clapping, and shouting “Erdoğan, resign!” Elderly women handed out lemons from their windows (people here erroneously believe these mitigate the effects of tear gas), and shouted at passersby to “keep resisting!” Taxi, bus, and minivan drivers honked their horns in support. Massive crowds crossed the Bosphorus bridge from the Asian side of the city, all marching to Taksim Square. I have never seen such a spontaneous outpouring of public rage—coupled, of course, with the hysterical joy of the mob. But others have seen it here before. In the 1980s, the great travel writer Jan Morris described Istanbul thus:

The leftists think of themselves as progressives, modernists, but they are really honoring a tradition even older than Islam: for long before the caliphate was invented, the city crowd was a force in Byzantium. In those days the rival factions of the Blues and the Greens, originally supporters of the competing charioteers in the Hippodrome, were infinitely more riotous than any soccer crowd today, and the great circuits of the racetrack, around whose purlieus the backpack nomads now drink their mint tea . . . was the supreme arena of anarchy, the place where the frustration of the people found its ferocious release in bloodshed and insurrection . . .

I see better now what she meant.

Indeed. The Blues and Greens even cut their hair a particular way.

Turks held up signs calling their prime minister “Chemical Tayyip” and spread the slogan on Facebook. Then reports began pouring in from other cities—protesters, in the dead of night, marching to the parliament building in Ankara; protests in Konya (particularly amazing, because this is the ruling party’s base), and in Eskişehir, Trabzon, Adana, Edirne, Antalya, and Diyarbakır—protests spanning the whole geography of the country.
Yesterday, the riot police pulled out of Gezi Park. Cries of triumph echoed through the city. But the exuberance was short-lived, for the Robocops quickly turned their attention to gassing the rest of Istanbul. Beşiktaş (where the prime minister keeps his office), Dolmabahçe, Gaziosmanpaşa, and Baghdad Avenue became the new blood lands. So did the cities of Ankara, Antalya, Izmir, Adana, Kocaeli, Mersin, and Eskişehir. Interior Minister Muammer Güler announced that as of yesterday evening, 235 demonstrations had taken place over six days in 67 provinces, with 1,730 people detained. Unconfirmed reports tell of torture in Istanbul police stations.

Have you ever been in a Turkish prison? (Oh, come on. Someone had to say it ...)

Could this be the beginning of the end of Erdoğan's reign of terror? Rubin is not hopeful:

The political implications of the protests are not clear. They are probably unlikely to shake the determination of the government. “We do not have a government, we have Tayyip Erdogan,” political scientist and protester Koray Caliskan told the Reuters news agency.
Erdogan is very arrogant, has a strong base of support, and enjoys the full support of the Obama administration.  The Turkish economy is generally considered to be strong. Erdogan will have to decide whether to slow down the Islamization process—he has been clever at being patient—or, perhaps, on the contrary, to speed it up, claiming his regime is facing sabotage.

Daloglu is agnostic:

Turkey’s Justice and Development Party (AKP) government won’t step down because of the weeklong protests in Istanbul, which spread to at least 10 other cities — including Ankara, the capital of the country. The protests began on Monday, May 27, as an innocent demonstration of 500 people in Istanbul to oppose a construction plan to replace a park at Taksim Square with an Ottoman artillery barracks that was originally built in 1780 and destroyed in 1940.
It’s too early to come to a conclusion as to how these events might impact the ballot box. Today’s issue, however, is that Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan does not seem to understand the message coming from the streets, and is attempting to paint himself as a victim once again — this time as a result of the good service he says he is providing the public.

Berlinski, on the ground as she is, is a bit more hopeful:

Erdoğan may believe that he can outlast the protesters, and he may be right, particularly if the protesters succumb to the temptations of violence and vandalism. So far, they have been reasonably constrained. But the Robocops are exhausted—photos are circulating of them falling asleep on the street—and if there is one thing a prime minister best known for “taming the military” can’t do, it is to call in the army to settle things down. If the protests keep escalating and the crackdown intensifies, it’s hard to see how this can end well. Best case: the protests will spook the prime minister and give him a much-needed dose of humility. Worst case: The protests will spook the prime minister and leave him even more paranoid and vengeful.
Unfortunately, the early signs point toward the second scenario. Speaking of these events yesterday for the first time since the protests began, Erdoğan announced that the police had come under attack, and that the main opposition party and “certain media organizations” had provoked the events. He threatened to take the fight even deeper into the streets: “If they’ve got 20,000 people to go to Taksim, I can get 500,000 to turn out in Kazlıçeşme. We have that strength. . . . What is happening is entirely ideological. This approach is targeting my government, my person, and the municipal elections. They are thinking about how they can take the municipal authority from the AK Party.” He then suggested that anyone who drinks is an alcoholic—though he subsequently clarified that one or two drinks a year might be alright—and denounced Twitter, which has been trending for days with the slogan, “Tayyip, Resign!” That obviously displeased him. “There is now a menace which is called Twitter,” he said, and “the best examples of lies can be found there. To me, social media is the worst menace to society.” Just last week, he thought it was alcohol. He did concede that the police had been a touch excessive. The words came out of his mouth, but there was no corresponding remorse on his face.
[...]
The protests are about authoritarianism, plain and simple. What will happen now is anyone’s guess. The demonstrators are disorganized, and while they know what they don’t want, they aren’t sure what they do want. The opposition parties are hopeless. Politicians do not resign in Turkey generally; Tayyip Erdoğan certainly won’t. But he has damaged himself greatly and unleashed an unpredictable evil upon a land that has already known far too much of it. How strange that such a shrewd politician should make so grievous a tactical blunder. Then again, it is well known that whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad.

If the shoe was on the other foot ...

New Jersey Governor Chris Christie has decided to hold a quick special election to replace the recently-deceased Senator Frank Lautenberg:

New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie plans to conduct a special election in October to fill the unexpired term of the late Sen. Frank Lautenberg, provoking a scramble among hopefuls in both parties looking to grab the seat.
Saying “the people must choose,” Christie moved Tuesday to end at least part of the speculation surrounding the vacant post, announcing that a primary will be conducted on Aug. 13, with the survivors facing off on Oct. 16. The victor will fill out the remainder of Lautenberg’s term, which ends in January 2015. Whoever wins likely will seek a full six-year term in the November 2014 election.
The governor also intends to appoint a replacement until the election. His choice is expected later this week, sometime shortly after Lautenberg’s burial on Wednesday. Christie hasn’t indicated whether he intends to choose a caretaker or someone who may vie for the remainder of the unexpired term.
About the only sure thing is Christie will opt for a fellow Republican to replace Lautenberg, a Democrat.
“I’m going to pick a person I believe to be the best person,” he said in making the election announcement. “I do have a list in my head. You all know me. I don’t dawdle.”
The decision puts to rest speculation about the path Christie intended to pursue. New Jersey has conflicting statutes on how to fill an unexpired senatorial term. One allows the governor to make a temporary appointment until the next general election – in this case, Nov. 5. But another state law maintains if the vacancy occurs within 70 days of the primary – it did in this case, the New Jersey primary was Tuesday – the governor can call a special election to fill the vacancy.
There was some speculation that Christie might choose a strong Republican contender and let him or her serve out the remainder of Lautenberg’s unexpired term, giving the GOP a leg up on potential Democratic foes when the seat comes up on Nov. 5, 2014.
Instead he opted for a quick election, maintaining that pending issues are “too great to be determined by an appointee for a period of 18 months.”
“I want to have an elected senator as soon as possible,” he said.
The decision could prove costly – the New Jersey Office of Legislative Services estimates that the combined primary and special election could cost the state $24 million. But it relieves some of the political pressure Christie faced over the timing.
Christie is in the midst of his own re-election campaign. He currently holds what some polls point to as a 30-point lead over his challenger, state Sen. Barbara Buono. But GOP insiders maintained that the governor wanted to avoid conducting the Senate and gubernatorial election on the same day.
The most likely Democratic Senate candidate emerging is Cory Booker, the mayor of Newark, an African-American with a national reputation. If Booker is the Democrats’ choice, he’s expected to draw black voters to the polls, probably cutting into Christie’s electoral edge if they appeared on the same ballot.

Not surprisingly, this is causing considerable GOP angst:

The term for Lautenberg’s vacant seat runs until November 2014. Christie had two options in how to fill it. Option one: Simply appoint someone to serve out the rest of the term and let voters elect a new senator on schedule next year. Assuming Christie appointed a Republican, that would give the national GOP an extra vote in the Senate for almost 18 months — granted, likely a moderate vote, but that’s still preferable to a liberal Democrat. Maybe the appointee would impress Jerseyans with his Senate record and would stand an incumbent’s fighting chance to hold the seat against Cory Booker next year. Or maybe he wouldn’t intend to run against Booker at all, which would free him up to vote as a conservative for the remainder of the term. Jersey Democrats threatened to sue Christie if he went this route, but as Ed Krayewski noted at Reason, he had cover from the state’s bipartisan Office of Legislative Services. Reportedly, they issued an opinion earlier today stating that the 18-month appointment would be just fine legally.
Option two: Christie could throw all of that away by appointing a very short-term replacement for Lautenberg and scheduling a special election for sometime later this year. That would give Booker all kinds of advantages. Not only wouldn’t he have to face a GOP incumbent with more than a year’s experience in office, he also wouldn’t need to worry about his opponent having lots of time to fundraise. The risk to Christie in choosing this option was that it would bring all sorts of Democratic voters out to the polls on election day who might otherwise have stayed home. And that means Christie, who’s cruising to victory at the moment, could suddenly see his own gubernatorial reelection bid jeopardized by the big surge in Democratic turnout. All of which makes this a no-brainer, right? Appoint a Republican to finish Lautenberg’s term and trust that Christie’s big lead in the gubernatorial race won’t suffer too much for it. How angry could Jersey Democrats be if he appointed a Republican as squishy as he is?
So which option did Christie choose? Option two, of course — except that, in order to protect his own ass electorally, he decided to schedule the Senate special election in October, not on election day in November. Now he gets the best of both worlds, all but handing the seat to Booker ASAP to burnish his “bipartisan” brand while ensuring that he himself doesn’t have to face the extra Democratic voters who’ll turn out to vote for Booker. National Republicans are, as you might imagine, honked off[.]

So what?

Look, I get that the Democrats often try sleazy procedural tactics designed to screw Republicans. Witness the passage of Obamacare, or the constant blocking of good federal court nominees and the midnight promulgation of draconian environmental rules. For that matter, that's how Lautenberg got the nomination to replace the scandalized Robert Torricelli, who was forced to withdraw barely a month before the 2002 general election, in the first place (in violation of black letter New Jersey law). That is beneath contemptible, and deserves far more of a retaliation than the national GOP has been willing to give them.

Yet, put the shoe on the other foot here. If Christie was a Democrat and was calling for a special election that had a good chance of putting a Republican in the Senate seat, would the GOP be complaining? Nope. They would be celebrating his spirit of "bipartisanship," as the Democrats are now.

The people of New Jersey are generally liberal Democrats. Patriotic liberal Democrats, but still liberal Democrats. To try to trick them using procedural technicalities into electing or simply being stuck with a senator who does not represent them is just as sleazy as anything Harry Reid or Nancy Pelosi has attempted.

Neither party has a monopoly on the right thing to do. But Chris Christie has chosen the right thing to do, something that may not be in his best political interest, but is in the best interest of good representative government. And Christie should be celebrated for so choosing.

When you vote in the Muslim Brotherhood ...

Don't be surprised if you are voted out as the vacation paradise of the world:

The U.S. Embassy issued a warning about increasing incidents at or near the famous pyramids at Giza about a dozen miles from downtown Cairo. Most of the incidents are due to overly aggressive vendors who in some cases come close to criminal conduct, the embassy says.
"U.S. citizens should elevate their situational awareness when traveling to the pyramids, avoid any late evening or night travel, utilize a recommended or trusted guide, and closely guard valuables," according to a security message on the embassy's website last week.
Visitors going toward the ancient complex, roughly an hour's drive in traffic from central Cairo, are encountering Egyptians who work in the tourism sector and surround and pound on tourists' taxis and cars in what the embassy says may be an effort to pressure visitors to ride in their horse-drawn carriages.
In some cases, angry vendors have tried to open vehicles' doors, frightening visitors, the embassy said.
Egypt's minister of antiquities, Ahmed Eissa, insisted the Giza pyramid complex is safe. He said neither his office nor the tourism police have received complaints, according to newspaper reports.
Others who have traveled to the area say the problems are real.
"It's a new level of frightening," said Graham Harman, associate provost for research administration and professor of philosophy at the American University in Cairo.
Vendors began the practice of banging on cars pulling up to the pyramids within the first six months after Egypt's revolution in 2011. Once tourists enter the complex gates the harassment continues.

The Giza Necropolis, home of the pyramids of Khufu (or Cheops), Khafre (or Cephren) and Menkaure (or Mykerinos); and the Sphinx (with probably the head of Khafre or (Cephren)), among many other things. It's sad to see how Cairo has encroached on these beautiful ancient Wonders of the World.

This is not hostility toward tourists. Far from it. This is sheer desperation:

Visitors to Giza can see the depth of financial despair evident among those who work in the tourism industry, a main source of income for many Egyptians. Many vendors seem starved for travelers. Stable owners who offer horseback rides through the sprawling desert have fed their horses hay that was bought on loan while others over the past two years have been forced to sell their animals.
Tourism is diminished across the country.
Ayman Hussein works for a travel agency in Aswan, a city in Upper Egypt not far from Sudan that is near a set of magnificent temples. He said tourism has dropped by more than half since the days before the nation's uprising.
"Please tell the people: Come to Upper Egypt," Hussein said.
Making matters worse, prices of electricity and basic foods have been rising.
"It's very hard," Hussein said, but he brushed off news that there may be dangers hundreds of miles away at the Giza pyramids.
"We love the tourists," he said. "Don't worry about this."

I believe you guys love the tourists, Mr. Hussein, but it's hard not to worry. The Muslim Brotherhood that rules Egypt advocates barbaric shar'ia law. They want women veiled, alcohol gone, and Christians killed (just ask the Copts). Unaccompanied, unveiled women are often raped by gangs of Muslim men in Cairo itself. The only crimes police care about are those that are offensive to Islam, which does not include rape. Even though Egypt is dependent on tourists who visit its pyramids (and, remember, the Giza Necropolis is only a small portion of the pyramids of Egypt) and even though most Egyptians take immense pride in their pre-Islamist past, Salafist Muslim allies of the Muslim Brotherhood openly advocate for the destruction of the pyramids as "offensive to Islam."

You feel bad for these people. I feel bad for these people. I dearly love Egypt and want it and its people to succeed. But my sympathy is somewhat limited. The Egyptians wanted to get rid of Hosni Mubarak. They knew what the Muslim Brotherhood stood for. We knew what the Muslim Brotherhood stood for and reminded them of it.  They voted (actually voted in what was recognized as a generally fair election) the Muslim Brotherhood into power. Now that the Muslim Brotherhood's well-known hostility to the West and anything "un-Islamic" is killing the country, don't come bitching to me. We have neither the ability nor the inclination to rule your country for you. Help yourselves and get rid of the Muslim Brotherhood and its Islamist allies.

However bad this looks for Egypt, Walter Russell Mead argues that the US Embassy's report means things can only get worse:

This is the same basic message presented by a World Economic Forum report that ranked Egypt as one of the most dangerous places in the world to be a tourist.
This is less dramatic news than reports of the latest massacre in Syria or riot in Turkey, but it’s possibly more significant in the long term, for two reasons. First, it’s the US Embassy that has issued this warning; second it’s on the front page of USA Today, so plenty of people are going to hear about it.
Tourism has been hit hard by political turmoil in Egypt. Many travelers are avoiding the country or canceling trips. Hotel occupancy in Cairo is 15 percent or lower in some parts of the city.
The Embassy warning may be the sign that it’s time to stick a fork in Egypt’s tourism industry. The Egyptians can forget about a tourism revival anytime soon.
Foreign economic aid won’t be able to replace the lost tourism revenue, which, as the NYT reports, ”provides direct jobs for nearly three million people, critical income to more than 70 industries and 20 percent of the state’s foreign currency—now desperately needed to prop up the plummeting Egyptian pound.” And so the economic death spiral will continue.

Book Review: Calamity at Chancellorsville

So I went to the new Barnes & Noble at Keystone at the Crossing last week. Not as happy with it as I was with the old Borders at that location or the old Barnes & Noble at Clearwater, inasmuch as their history section overall, and especially their world history section, seems to be smaller. But I did stumble across and pick up Calamity at Chancellorsville: The Wounding and Death of Confederate General Stonewall Jackson, by Mathew W. Lively. It seemed amazong to me that there would be an entire book on Jackson's death, but there it was. Naturally, I had to grab it.

For the uninitiated, the Civil War Battle of Chancellorsville took place between April 30 and May 6, 1863, mostly in a wooded area known as, curiously enough, the Wilderness, in Spotsylvania County, Virgina, focusing on a crossroads known as, curiously enough, Chancellorsville, although it was more an aspiration than an actual "ville" inasmuch as it consisted of one large mansion.

The 133,000-man Union Army of the Potomac, led by General Joseph Hooker (who in my opinion was one of the best Union generals of the war) was trying to outflank and envelop General Robert E. Lee's 60,000-man Confederate Army of Northern Virginia, dug in at a nearly unassailable position (as the Army of the Potomac had found oout a few months previously) at Fredericksburg. When Hooker stole a march on Lee and occupied Chancellorsville, Lee had to keep some forces in a blocking position in Fredericksburg while moving the bulk of his army to the Wilderness.

The key phase of the battle took place on May 2. General Lee had been informed by his scouts that the Union right flank was unsecured, basically hanging "in mid air," with fortifications that faced to the south and Lee's army. Lee had General Thomas J. "Stonewall" Jackson and his Confederate II Corps engange in a flanking movement, marching 12 miles around a pig iron foundry known as Catharine Furnace and through the Wilderness toward the exposed Union right. If the move was to succeed, it had to be undetected.

General Hooker was, in fact, concerned about his right flank. He had tried to move several of his units to support it but comunication problems meant they could not reach it in time. Union scouts had spotted General Jackson's corps moving through the woods, and Hooker ordered the Geneal Oliver Howard, commander of the XI Corps on the Union right, to take precautions against an attack from the west. Howard reported that he was doing so; in fact he had done nothing. The only Union forces facing the west were a few pickets and two cannons. The troops of the XI Corps, considered among the worst in the Army of the Potomac and therefore plced on the Union right where combat was not expected, had sat down to dinner with their rifles stacked and unloaded.

Around 5:30 pm, those Union troops were startled to see foxes, rabbits, and deer fleeing the Wilderness in terror towards them. Shortly thereafter, General Jackson's 21,500 men exploded out of the woods screaming the Rebel Yell. The XI Corps disintegrated. Jackson's troops advanced to within sight of Chancellors-"ville" before darkness, Union artillery, and the very speed of their advance halted it for the night.

Though it was now dark, Jackson wanted to press on, and scouted down what was called the Orange Plank Road (because, you see, it had wooden planks, though they were not orange) ahead of his troops. Behind him was another scouting party led by General A.P. Hill. Jackson's staff warned him he was in danger but he did not listen.

As his party was returning, there was an exchange of gunfire between Union and Confederate pickets. Fearful of a moonlight Union counter attack, the rebel 18th North Carolina Infantry Regiment saw about two dozen cavalry galloping towards them and opened fire. The "cavalry" turned out to be the scouting parties of Generals Hill and Jackson. The fusillade of fire was devastating. While Hill was unhurt, almost all of his staff was killed. Of Jackson's party, which was further away, only one was wounded -- Jackson himself, who took two bullets in his left arm and one in his right hand.

The wounds to Jackson's left arm were so severe he could not continue. He was placed on a stretcher to carry back to a field hospital, but en route one of the stretcher bearers tripped and fell, dumping Jackson, who landed on his shattered left arm. He groaned in agony. His left arm had to be amputated at the field hospital. He seemed to be recovering well and was sent behind the front to be with his wife, but he contracted pneumonia and died on May 10.

Author Mathew W. Lively is actually a medical doctor with a lifelong interest in the Civil War (not unlike a lawyer with a lifelong interest in the Battle of the Java Sea) so Calamity at Chancellorsville is a sort of forensic analysis of General Jackson's death, but is mostly a description of its circumstances and a discussion of its mysteries. I had previously read Stephen W. Sears' Chancellorsville, in which he expresses the belief that the critical injury to Jackson was not the bullet wounds to his arm, but the fall from the stretcher. Lively concurs with that analysis and goes further, saying that the fall from the stretcher bruised Jackson's right lung (though he doesn't explain how landing on his left arm could have damaged his right lung). It was this bruise that caused the pneumonia, with its onset delayed by the shock of Jackson's arm injury.

For a narrowly focused book, Lively's has an interesting discussion of Jackson's flank attack and, in a general way, the Chancellorsville setting. He goes into Jackson's motif as "a good man fighting for an evil cause." He also explains precisely where and how Jackson was shot, debunking several myths in the process. Finally, Lively examines the mysterious fate of Jackson's (now missing) amputated arm.

Most interesting for me is the discussion of the Wilderness and Catharine Furnace. When I was growing up I read The Golden Book of The Civil War, Adpated for Young Readers from the American Heritage Picture History of the Civil War. Even back then I did not find the narrative itself all that great, but it is chock full of beautifully illustrated maps of almost all the major battles. These remain the best maps I have seen of any Civil War publication.

The maps of the Chancellorsville and later Wilderness battles (I can't find an online version of them) always intrigued me. I never understood how Chancellorsville could consist of one building; The Golden Book of The Civil War never explained it. Its image of Catharine Furnace (often misspelled as Catherine") consisted of a single brick building that appeared to be rubbled and abandoned. Except Chancellorsville and now Calamity at Chancellorsville made clear Catharine Furnace was in operation. How could the furnace operate when it was a single rubbled building?

As the National Parks Service makes clear, it was much more than that:

The strangely mysterious Catharine Furnace.

As they explain the drawing:

Recent archaeological work reveals the extent of the industry at this site. Hundreds of people worked and lived here. The artist depiction shows only a small portion of the vast area occupied by the complex. 

Catharine Furnace, like many of the iron furnaces in the area, closed in the late 1840's. It was the shutting down of the iron industry that allowed a young second growth forest to develop by 1863 that the local civilians called The Wilderness. Catharine Furnace was reactivated during the war for use by the Confederacy. It was destroyed by George Custer's cavalry during the Wilderness Campaign in May of 1864. Today one stone stack remains.

The remaining single stone smokestack of Catharine Furnace.

The Catharine Furnace Monument.

So there appear to be no contemporary pictures of Catharine Furnace, nor apparently do any plans remain. The drawing from the Park Service is the result of archaeological work. Interesting to see our own American history becoming more and more dependent on archaeological work like ancient Greece and Rome.

It was Lively's book that first put me onto the connection between the Wilderness and Catharine Furnace, which was something else not explained by The Golden Book of The Civil War. The original forest was mostly torn down to fuel the furnaces. The furnaces were shut down in the 1840's. Only some 20 years later in 1863, the forest had grown back to such an extent that it was (and is) now called the Wilderness.

Anyone claiming how damaging logging is needs to examine the history of the Wilderness and Catharine Furnace. But I digress.

Given that he is a medical doctor used to writing for scientific journals, Lively has a surprisingly easy and engaging writing style. Calamity at Chancellorsville is not long (173 pages) and is so well-written that it reads shorter than even that. I was able to finish it in a weekend.

If you have an interest in the Civil War and Stonewall Jackson, I must say this book is for you. I highly recommend it.

When editors fail

So with my own manuscript completed, I am able to get caught up on the voluminous volumes of history I have accumulated that have had to sit and wait for the completion of the narrative in Rising Sun, Falling Skies. One of these books is The Lost Empire of Atlantis: History's Greatest Mystery Revealed, by Gavin Menzies.

No big surprise that the book is about Minoan Crete, which many believe to be the basis for the legendary continent of Atlantis. The Minoans, who were primarily seafarers and traders, disappeared at the height of their power. Precisely why and how is not known, but most theorize it had something to do with the massive volcanic eruption at Santorini (or Thera, or Thira) some 80 miles to the north, an eruption that dwarfed even the famous Krakatoa eruption. The Santrorini eruption in about 1600 BC would have sent a titanic tsunami crashing into the north coast of Crete and reaching well inland, which would have wiped out almost all of the Minoan ports and population centers. As you can see, most of the elements of the Atlantean legend are present.

I am still reading the book, so I can't give it a full review just yet, but, uh, am I the only one who sees an issue with the cover?